Lemonade
by Screaming With Your Mouth Shut
Summary: I've found my voice but I can't use it to scream. Why... why can't I scream? Is it because nobody will hear me? Is it because I'm afraid of what people would think of me if they found out? But, this is what I deserve, right? Should I kill myself? Or would that be to easy? [AU ooc Darkfic. Mature Subject Matter. Aigis x Minato x Yukari] - Discontinued as "Heart Shaped Syringe" -


**_Warning: _**_18+ __Contains mature subject matter; Self-harm, Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Bullying, Self-hate._

**_I am in no way, shape, or form, condoning any of the actions told throughout the story. Self-harm is NOT the way to go. If you do harm yourself, please don't hesitate, talk to someone. Your life is just as important as anyone elses._**

**NOTE: This is an alternate universe. There is no persona, dark hour, or anything like that. All characters will be totally out of character from the original, so don't bitch about them being 'ooc'. **

**Please let me know if I should continue this fic or not. Please enjoy.**

**"_I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel._" -Maya Angelou**

**Summary:**

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><p>I've found my voice but I can't use it to scream. Why... why can't I scream? Is it because nobody will hear me? Is it because I'm afraid of what people would think of me if they found out? But, this is what I deserve, right? Should I kill myself? Or would that be to easy? AU ooc Darkfic. Mature Subject Matter. Aigis x Minato x Yukari.<p>

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><p><strong><span>Lemonade<span>**

_By: Screaming With Your Mouth Shut_

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

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><p>The book laid flat on the side of the table. A fairytale about <em>him <em>and _her. _Where there is no 'once apon a time,' or 'happy ever after,'. There was no princess locked away in a tower, no prince charming rescuing _her_. The main characters died and love never prevailed. The bad guy always got away. _Always. _

A leg shot out from the bed hitting the table, knocking the book onto the floor.

**Thump.**

The book smashes into pieces. Shards sent flying in all directions. Under the bed, all over the carpet, under the dresser, everywhere. The moaning ceased. And what laid was a beautiful, young girl who's heart had not for the first time, been shattered. Moving towards the corner of the bed, she tries to make herself invisible, curling herself up into a protective ball, as she lay afraid of what stood before _her_. And with a deep grunt, and a sudden weight disappearing off of the bed, the door closed, and _her _fear along with it. Leaving the broken girl, to _her _lonesome self, for what seem like eternity.

As time went by, the girl slowly inched herself towards the side of the bed. Placing one foot down before the other, a sudden jolt of pain shot up, making _her_ collapse back down onto the bed. _Her_ feet had been impaled with several shards. bleeding in every angle imaginable. She brought _her_ feet back up to _her_ dirty blood stained sheets, tucking _her_ knees back into _her_ chest. It was everywhere. She would sometimes scratch away at it violently, just wishing it would all go away. But it never did. It was apart of _her_, it was there to remind _her_. Pain was everywhere. She could barely move. The blood. The pain of moving _her_ legs, the blood just wouldn't disappear. Slowly gliding a hand down to _her_ private area, it felt hot and wet. Bringing _her_ hand back up, only proved _her _suspicions. Blood. Tonight he had been more violent with _her_ then usual. But it didn't matter. She didn't matter. She always told herself that she deserved it. This was what she deserved for everything she had done. She could never, ever be loved, so she suffered as punishment.

Nothing could fix _her_. She was like a broken porcelain doll. The damage was already done, no amount of glue and tape could fix these cracks inside _her_. She was alone in this world, forced to walk on _her_ own two feet. But many times she felt them give out from underneath _her_. Betraying _her_, in all sorts of twisted ways. The world seemed like it was against _her_. She hated this. She hated living, she hated breathing, and hated the people around _her_, and most importantly, she hated herself.

She quickly drew the soiled sheets around _her_ bloodied body, cuddling up against herself. The only friend she ever had, hurt _her_. Pieces of it, stuck in _her_ feet, slowly draining the life from beneath _her_. All was lost. She couldn't remember how many times she read that book. It had become one of the few joys she had in _her_ miserable existence. _Her_ escape from all the pain and suffering. Where she could just loose herself in the vibrant colors of the words as the pages sang poetry. The only happiness she had ever experienced was taken away from _her_, the final string severed. She was truly alone.

Tomorrow would be that last day of spring break, and she would have to start school again. She felt slightly relieved to be able to go back. It gave _her_ a chance to escape _her_ nightmare at home, a chance to be free, only if it was just a little while. Most students _her_ age would be disappointed to return to school after such a long break. Not _her_. She never went anywhere, she wasn't aloud. But she never had anyone to go with anyway, so it didn't matter. School was _her _escape from the harsh realities the loomed before _her_. It was also a chance for _her_ to see _him. _But that also meant she would be returning to yet another harsh reality.

People have been bullying and picking on _her_ since 3rd grade.

Everyone seemed to avoid _her_ like the plague. The people who didn't, took it apon themselves to stuff _her_ into lockers or take _her _already small lunch and throw it away. There where days spent where she never ate a thing. This caused _her_ to be unnaturally thin. He would starve _her_, and she would starve herself along with it.

But she would always tell herself that no matter the pain, seeing _his_ beautiful face made everything she's been through, worth it.

87 lbs.

Would the red flashing number on the scale change _his _opinion of _her_? Or maybe the fact that she is dirty and worthless. Surely someone like _him _would be put off by someone like _her. _Was there ever a chance to begin with, or should she keep catching herself in _her _dark, cruel, demented fantasy.

Snaking _her_ aching arms around _her _exposed chest, darkness slowly began taking _her _over, drifting _her_ off into oblivion, nobody will know _her_, nobody will miss _her_, and nobody will hear the soft sobs and constant whispers to herself that she will never be loved.

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><p>The room was silent.<p>

Dark.

Cold.

Musky.

Motionless.

There laid a boy, sprawled out over the floor, blood seeping through his dark grey sweatshirt, and onto his light blue jeans. At first glance, no one would be able to tell if he was still breathing. Not a soul. Ignorance was bliss.

The apartment was barren and under furnished. The roof leaked and the pipes rattled. Dingy with the faint smell of cigarettes, calling it 'livable' would be awfully generous. The countless empty alcohol bottles were all to keep _him_ company. They never left his side, starring down at _him _with the glare of a thousand eyes. Sometimes, they would even speak to _him_. They would tell _him _things. Words of hate, and sorrow. He would get down onto his hands and knees, begging them to stop. But they never listened. Nobody listened to _him_. Nobody heard _him_. Nobody believed _him_.

And he hated it.

Slowly bringing his arms to his side, he gathered enough strength to push himself up. Just as fast as he got up, he fell right back down. The sudden blood rush to his head soon subsided, and he was able to pick himself up right where he left off. Luckily for _him_, his father wasn't around. This happened more often then he thought. Only he knew true hated and anger. He had been on the receiving end of it for years. Why? No one knew. Some would think it was the alcohol, others would think was the accident that took place twelve years ago. One that he could never live down, as if it were permanently etched into his mind.

The day his little sister died.

He would admit, his father favored his sister over _him. _Maybe it was because she had his mothers eyes, maybe it was the smile. Like the light at the end of the tunnel. Whatever it maybe be...

It never changed the fact that it was his fault.

Just like every other problem of his. It was always _him_. His father never failed to remind _him _that everything was his fault. Now, he couldn't tell if it was the liquor speaking or not. There was never enough time. Rational thought went out the door, broken bones came in. Then, once he was satisfied with his work, he would drag his ass back to the bar, fueling up for round two. This gave _him_ enough time to prepare as well. He was always to injured to treat himself, so he had to go to the girl next door. The only person who seemingly knew what was going on. The only person that was ever there for _him_.

They have known each other for a while. Ever since she moved next door to _him_. She would hear the things that went on next door every night. And every night, she would cry, and say a little prayer to _him_, hoping she could still repair _him _after it was over. Alas, it never seemed that way. She took it apon herself to take care of _him_, almost like the mother he never had. But the beatings kept getting worse and worse, and she soon found herself running out of supplies. So she had no choice but to get a part-time job.

He was extremely thankful for everything the girl did. She was the only one who stood by his side, through thick and thin. Cleaning and bandaging his wounds, giving _him_ a place to stay when things got rough. They soon found themselves becoming closer and closer as time went on. He felt like he had somebody, who he can trust through this thick fog.

...Finally

. . .

. . .

. . .

The chapter continues, the page turns.

They don't live no fairy tale,

No castle,

No knight in shining armor,

No prince,

No princess,

King or queen,

Only cuts,

bruises,

knives and nooses,

Just _him _and _her,_

And so their story begins...

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><p><strong>AN: Please let me know if I should continue this story. Any question or concerns, please feel free to message me.**


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